


debt

by moggin



Series: a non-festive december mcyt prompt list [9]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Beaches, Compasses, Fluff, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, TommyInnit Misses Toby Smith | Tubbo, alot, this is really sad ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28057524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moggin/pseuds/moggin
Summary: tommy misses tubbo. he thinks about lmanburg, and everything that went wrong.prompt: betrayal
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: a non-festive december mcyt prompt list [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038111
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	debt

I’ll never leave you, he said. You’re my best friend, he said. That was absolute bullshit.

Tubbo hadn’t even come to _visit_ him. And he had the gall to say that he missed him on stream? The only person who ever stopped by was Dream. Well, the only living person. Wilbur hung around too.

Tommy was pissed off. His best friend had picked his country over him, and then almost accused him, saying he would have done the same thing. He would have never, _ever_ even thought about exiling Tubbo. He would give up his country for him. He would give up his discs for him. He would give up everything, including his last life, to make sure Tubbo was safe and happy, though he would never admit it. It was a kind of rejection, knowing your best friend didn’t care for you as much as you did for them. It was bleak, empty unrequitedness, and Tommy was pissed off, on the outside.

On the inside, he was just a child who wanted his best friend to love him. 

He missed L’Manburg. He missed Tubbo, before he had become…. this. He missed the Wilbur that was sane. That was _alive_ and sane. 

He missed the days where the biggest problem was Ponk’s lemon tree getting burned down. He missed asking George about his STDs. He missed Henry, and his little house on the hill, and the view that he would admire as he listened to the scratchy music coming from the jukebox. He missed the long, spindly and unbelievably inconvenient railroad. He missed making drugs in the van. 

He missed Schlatt, the Schlatt that existed before he got banned the first time. He missed the cuck shed. He missed the stupid tower that someone made look like a willy. 

He missed Tubbo’s bee farm.

He missed Tubbo. 

He missed Tubbo so fucking much. He thought about the boy constantly. How he was probably stressed and in need of a hug from _him_. It had become a habit of his to sit on the beach and watch his compass move ever so slightly, and wonder what Tubbo was doing. Maybe he was helping break down the walls. Maybe he was helping rebuild L’Manburg. Maybe he was just running around for the fun of it, and all Tommy wanted in that moment was to be running with him. 

To forget all of these wars and broken promises and just be kids, because wasn’t that what they were? 

They were really just kids who were thrust into a world of violence and theft and death and grief and Tommy was so _fucking alone_ he could barely stand it. Was this what Wilbur felt like when everyone he trusted left him?

When he was with Tubbo, hell, when he was with anybody, he could put the reality of the situation to the back of his mind. Focus on the present, enjoy things while they last, because so many of the best things were too temporary for anyone’s liking. 

Tubbo and he had promised to be best friends forever. Wilbur had promised to stay by his side. Techno had promised to be better. Schlatt hadn’t promised shit but Tommy knew how much he had cared for Tubbo before ordering to have him publicly executed by someone who was basically his brother.

Tommy knew that he was just as in the wrong as everyone else. He had made so many mistakes in the short months he had been here, and his exile gave him time to remind himself of every one of them. 

He was too cocky during the election. He and Wilbur sent Quackity away when he had offered to pool their votes, and wasn’t that what caused all of this? One simple word, uttered in a tiny, musty underground tunnel caused the rise of a dictatorship. Caused the death of so many. Caused the downward spiral of Wilbur’s mental health. Caused the death of a president, an anarchist and a country. One, tiny word. 

He burned down George’s house. He was cocky with Dream when he realized the man didn’t have his discs. He was the reason Dream snapped. He did that, all by himself. That caused his exile, so why was he wallowing? This entire thing, this whole shitshow of a life was all of his own doing. He had no right to complain.

He valued his discs more than his friends, and now he didn’t have any discs or any friends. He had Bad’s disc, but that wasn’t the same. 

With all the time he had to reflect on his mistakes, he realized just how shitty of a friend he was to Tubbo. Here he was being so hurt by Tubbo exiling him, when he had basically done worse if he compiled everything he had said and done to Tubbo. 

Whether he was talking about his relentless teasing, his rude words, his failure to save Tubbo when the boy was being executed, the failure to do anything right. 

He deserved this.

He deserved every bit of loneliness and sadness that exile brought him. He caused this, and he caused so many other things, and what goes around comes around. He wanted so badly to be able to go back to L’Manburg and apologize again because the apology he gave just wasn’t enough, but this was his debt. He was just paying a debt. It wasn’t clear who the debt was to. Probably everyone. 

That’s what this was. 

He had racked up a mountain of emotional debt, and now he was being forced to pay it off. 

Tommy pocketed the compass, deciding to get his mind off of his pitiful state and try to get some iron. He hadn’t even made a mine yet. He walked back to the camp, briefly glancing at the prime log before crafting a pickaxe and shovel. He walked out to the middle of the plain and got to work.

The sweat running down his temple was refreshing. He almost missed having to work for materials, instead of just stealing. He mined for almost an hour, making a decent stairwell going about 30 meters from the surface. 

His mind was almost completely off of the situation, and the only thing binding him was the weight of the compass in the pocket of his khakis.

That was, until a looming shadow blocked the daylight he was using to see what he was doing.

Tommy turned around to see his brother’s broad shoulders almost touching the sides of his little tunnel, and the mediocre dam he had constructed out of distraction crumbled. He let out a weak whimper and almost fell to his knees, Techno catching him before they could hit the stone. The man took off all of his armor, stowing it away in his inventory, and picked up Tommy. He held his brother to his chest and let him cry.

Tommy cried for a long time. His cries were filled with regret, grief, frustration, sorrow, and betrayal, and Techno didn’t really know how to handle this kind of thing so he just held the blonde firmly, as if to say he was here and he wasn’t leaving.

After Tommy’s cries had subsided, Techno asked the boy if he wanted to talk about it. Tommy said he did, and proceeded to spill everything to the pink-haired fellow. Techno simply sat and listened. They watched the sun set and the sky turn from orange to pink and finally bleed into a dark, inky black.

Tommy’s eyes started drooping, and Techno told him he should go to sleep. Tommy nodded, asking if he would stay. Asking him to stay. Techno simply nodded.

“Promise?” Tommy said.

Techno nodded again. Tommy let his consciousness slip in the warmth of his brother’s presence.

When Tommy woke up the next morning to find Techno gone, despite his promise, he couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. After all, he was just paying a debt. He got up from where he had been lying on the ground and made his way to the beach, hand resting on the cool metal of the compass in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading day..... 8?? no its day 9 lol uhhh if u wanna participate then join the discord server, it doesnt matter how late u are :) https://discord.gg/XmqNfG2Q8N
> 
> im doing this challenge with @WhimsicalMercy and @leggyman so check out their works as well :))
> 
> comments are appreciated !!!


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